Alex Rider Syndrome
by prone2dementia
Summary: Following Tom’s suggestions, Alex jokingly threatens a persistent telemarketer. But when the telemarketer is murdered, the police show up at Alex’s doorstep, dig into his files, and cause general mayhem. MI6 is not amused. Oneshot, drabble like scenes.


_With thanks to _Crowlows19 _- who edited, and _ObsessivelyOdd _- who helped out._

* * *

Alex Rider Syndrome

**1**

On Monday:

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"_Hello. You have reached the Rider residence. No one is available to take your call. Please leave a message after the tone_."

_Beep_.

"Hi, this is Bill, here to inform you that you have been pre-qualified for a low-interest loan. Please call us back at 0800 688 7325 to receive more information about this great offer. Again, this toll free number is 0800 688 7325, and my name is Bill."

**2**

On Tuesday:

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"_Hello. You have reached the Rider residence. No one is available to take your call. Please leave a message after the tone_."

_Beep_.

"Bill here again, just to remind you of this great low-interest loan we're offering. Time is limited, so please call us back at 0800 688 7325 to receive more information."

**3**

On Wednesday:

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"_Hello. You have reached the Rider residence. No one is available to take your call. Please leave a message after the tone_."

_Beep_.

"Hi, this is Bill. I wanted to remind you that you have been _pre-qualified_ for a low-interest loan. All you have to do to find out more is call back at this toll free number: 0800 688 7325. Please call soon because offers are limited!"

**4**

Returning home from school on Thursday, Alex Rider was glad to find that there were no messages left on his answering machine. When notified that he had missed calls, the teen spy was always apprehensive, fearing that MI6 had contacted again. Lately, however, calls from a certain telemarketer named Bill seemed to congest his answering machine. He had almost expected to find another call today, informing him about an _amazing low-interest loan_!

He hadn't though, and he heaved a sigh of relief.

Putting thoughts of bothersome phone calls behind him, Alex padded into the kitchen, in search of an apple. But before he could begin to find his chosen fruit, a familiar ringing halted him. With irritation, he crossed back to the phone and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Hello there! This is Bill—"

"Listen, Bill. I'm not interested in any offers you have to make me—"

"_But!_"

"—Good_bye_."

**5**

Upon picking up the phone Friday evening, Alex immediately recognized the voice on the other end.

"Hey, how are you doing? This is Bill again—"

Suppressing the urge to grit his teeth, the youth responded, "I'm doing great, Bill. I _don't_ want a low-interest loan. I _do_, however, want you to stop calling. Thank you. _Goodbye_."

**6**

Tom claimed that he wasn't stupid, just that he wasn't skilled in maths. Needing assistance with algebra homework was his excuse for coming to Alex's house on Saturday, but they had abandoned schoolwork in favor of video games.

"I'm going to win this time, Alex."

"Sure. And pigs will fly."

"Of course! I shall charm the swine with my magical pow—"

_Ring!_

_Ring!_

"—Uh, Alex? I think that's your phone..."

Sarcastically, the fair-haired teen muttered, "Really? What makes you think that?"

Rising from the couch, Alex dropped his console and went to pick up the phone. Tom, without anything better to do, followed him.

One glance at the caller display informed Alex that the caller was Bill. Answering would be unnecessary, he decided. Turning around, the teen spy rammed straight into his best friend. Two simultaneous yelps of pain resounded through the house.

"Tom! Have you never been introduced to the concept of personal space?"

"You're the super spy here! Didn't your super senses tell you that I was right behind you?"

"No, my _common_ sense told me that no one would be stupid enough to stand so close. But then, you _are_ pretty stupid."

"Well, I hadn't expected you to walk off without picking up the phone."

"It was that telemarketer again."

"Oh, the one you've been complaining about lately?"

"Yeah, I've decided to ignore him."

"...Hmm, y'_know_... I'm sure there are more _interesting_ ways to stop the guy from calling you."

"More...interesting? I'm not sure I like the sound of that." Alex was worried by Tom's smirk.

"That's right. The next time he calls you, this is what you should do..."

**7**

Late on Sunday night, Alex was subjected to a call from Bill once more. In need of some entertainment, he threw caution to the wind and followed Tom's instructions.

"Hello, it's Bill again—"

"Listen closely, Bill." Alex made sure to use his most threatening _agent_ tone. "If you call this number again, I will hunt you down and—" He pulled his shirt collar up, rubbing the fabric against the receiver to create a crackling noise. "—you."

Not waiting for a reply, Alex hung up.

**8**

After a "Bill-free" week, Alex was convinced that the matter of the irritating telemarketer had been resolved.

Then Monday arrived.

This time, instead of persistent ringing, persistent knocking disturbed Alex and Tom.

Throwing open the front door, Alex found himself face to face with two men. Both were dressed in dark suits, one heavy-set, the other thin and wiry. Before the fair-haired youth could greet them, however, Tom's voice sounded from behind him:

"_Oooh_, detectives."

Both men froze and then peered at the short, dark-haired boy behind Alex.

The heavier one recovered a beat later, asking sharply, "How did you know?"

Tom grinned, the expression inherently mischievous. "The shoes gave it away. You guys always wear the same shoes..."

In unison, Alex and the two detectives looked down, gazing at two identical pairs of polished, black shoes.

More than a little thrown, the thinner man ignored Tom altogether. "I'm Detective Stevens and this is Detective Larson. We're here to talk to Alex Rider. Might one of you be him?"

"Yeah, me," said Alex. "Can I help you?"

"Well..." Detective Larson's eyes darted between the two boys, obviously wishing to question Alex alone.

Picking up on the body language, Alex turned to his friend. "Why don't you go back home, Tom?"

"You don't want me here? I'm devastated."

Alex rolled his eyes, watching in silence as Tom grabbed his schoolbag and bounded out the door. "Later, Alex!"

When they were alone, Detective Stevens said, "We would like you to come down to the station with us, so we can ask you a few questions about the murder of William Warren."

"...William...Warren?" Alex repeated blankly.

"A telemarketer that went by the name of Bill," Larson clarified.

Stevens added, "He was murdered last Monday."

"We have records of his phone calls."

"More specifically, we have records showing that _you _were his last call."

"And that you _threatened _him."

Alex stared, one incredulous thought running through his mind:

_Damn_.

He knew he shouldn't have followed Tom's suggestion. He was now paying for the lapse in judgment.

Jack would _not _be pleased.

**9**

"_Listen closely, Bill. If you call this number again, I will hunt you down and—" _For a moment, crackling sounds displaced the voice. _"—you._"

Larson turned off the recording. "Sound familiar?"

Eyes wide, Alex said, "It was just a joke that my friend suggested." He winced at how pathetic his protest sounded. "Besides, I'm not the type who would carry out a threat like that."

The thinner detective raised a brow. "We've looked through your school records, Alex. They show multiple absences."

"So? I was sick."

"Multiple absences coupled with rumors of gang involvement and drug abuse do not make for a convincing case. Are you sure there isn't something you would like to admit?"

Scowling, the boy said, "I'd like to make a call."

_Because a call to MI6 could solve anything_, he thought wryly.

**10**

In a different room, located within the same police station, a blonde-haired woman sat frowning at her computer screen. A clearing throat caught her attention, and she looked up to see Detective Chief Inspector Connelly, a respectable man who had experienced much in his years.

"You called for me, Ms. Daniels?" he asked.

Biting her lip, the woman nodded. "Yes. I wouldn't normally bother you about something so trivial, but this is beyond strange..."

Smiling good-naturedly, the man said, "Perhaps you should explain to me what exactly _this _is?"

"Well, Stevens and Larson asked me to check up on a boy's phone records. I found a recurring pattern of calls from this number." She indicated at her screen. "But I could not trace the origin. When I searched on the database, it said the number belonged to a division of_ MI6_. I then did a profile check on this boy, and I was informed that I did not have enough _clearance _to view his file!"

"Hmm... Perhaps _I'll_ have enough clearance to view his file? Who is this boy, anyway?"

Pulling up the window that asked for a password, Ms. Daniels said, "Why don't you try, sir? His name is Alex Rider."

Nodding, the man leaned over, typing rapidly before hitting _enter_.

A pause. Then the screen displayed two words:

ACCESS DENIED.

**11**

Mr. Crawley was a very odd man. After arriving at the police station, he did not claim to be Alex Rider's lawyer. In fact, he did not even state his relationship with the boy. Instead, he requested the presence of Connelly and then pulled out three documents after the Chief Inspector's arrival.

"What's this?" asked Larson, examining the papers. "The _Official Secrets Act_?"

"Yes," Mr. Crawley calmly agreed. "Please sign where indicated."

"Who exactly are you?" asked Stevens.

Silently, Mr. Crawley pulled out a card from inside his jacket and showed it to the others:

_John Crawley_

_Military Intelligence 6_

The detective's mouths opened and closed several times, but no sounds escaped. Alex, who was sitting quietly to the side, thought that they were doing excellent fish imitations.

One of them finally spluttered, "...Do you expect us to believe you?"

"You can examine my file, if you would like. Although you do not have the clearance to read my files, I can give you the appropriate pass-code."

**12**

After discovering that Mr. Crawley was, indeed, who he said he was, the three detectives signed the Official Secrets Act. Unaccustomed to the wily ways of MI6, they naively believed that they would finally be receiving some answers.

Instead, they received:

"MI6 assures you that Alex Rider is innocent of any crimes that he has been accused of. They request that you drop the charges and never speak of Alex Rider's association with MI6 to anyone. It is in your best interest to forget this incident altogether."

**13**

As soon as Alex stepped into the street, he pulled out his mobile, called Tom, and explained all that had happened.

For a moment, there was nothing but laughter on the other line.

When Tom finally recovered, he said, "Too classic, Alex. From now on, I'll start referring to all incidents like this as manifestations of Alex Rider Syndrome."

"Alex Rider Syndrome?" Alex queried dryly.

"A disorder in which trouble follows the victim everywhere."

"...Riiight."

"Oh, c'mon. I'm right, aren't I? Think about it: that telemarketer just happened to get killed the day after you threatened him. If that isn't a sign that trouble follows you around, I don't know what is!"

Thoughts of MI6 and espionage leapt into Alex's mind. "I don't know. I'm sure I can think of a few more signs..."

Realizing his friend's train of thought, Tom said a bit awkwardly, "Oh, yeah. You and your _work_..."

"...I think," the fair-haired youth said slowly, "that from now on, I shall start referring to all tactless comments as manifestations of Tom Harris Syndrome."

**14**

Back in the station, Stevens was saying, "Did you notice how Crawley managed to answer all of our questions with non-answers?"

"Yeah, and we never did find out how that teenager was related to MI6," said Larson.

Shrugging, Connelly responded, "I don't think that's the last we'll be seeing of Alex Rider..."

* * *

I wrote this during a bout of fever, so that may explain a few things. Thanks for reading. I hope this has made you smile.


End file.
